The Servant
by eugene-the-artichoke
Summary: All he wants to do is feel something other than pain. The mindnumbing, heartwrenching pain. He runs, never stopping, never looking back.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does.

I don't own the song "Orchestra", the Servant does.

**A/N: **I've had this idea for the longest time, ever since I heard this song. So one day I just sat down to write and…this is what happened. Enjoy!

Dedicated to Dom 'cause he introduced me to this song.

**The Servant**

by: eugene-the-artichoke

-----

_Here I am  
A young man  
Come and get me if you can  
Up in my room covered in flames  
Meet me at the cinema  
You can take me in your car  
I'll lie in the back and stare at the planes_

-----

The rain falls in great, big crystalline drops of water, matting his unruly hair to his forehead. They cover the scar that has brought so much grief to him. Forever a reminder of his uniquely tragic curse The rain continues to fall, in heavier pattern now. He remains oblivious. He just keeps running, his own steady breathing keeping him from crossing the dangerous line that separates sanity and the unknown.

-----

_There's an orchestra in me  
Playing endlessly  
I even hear it now  
They play in the devil's key  
An endless symphony  
I even hear it now  
And I listen to the music  
Beautiful music  
Yes I listen to the music  
Beautiful music_

------

He can taste the sweat, tears and precipitation as he continues to travel around the Quidditch pitch. He welcomes the slightly sick mixture, as it seems to form some kind of reaction within him. The fact that it's disgust goes unnoticed. All he wants to do is feel something other than pain. The mind-numbing, heart-wrenching pain. He runs.

-----

_Here I am  
A young man  
You can roll me in your hand  
Throw me up high into the air  
I wandered on  
Ripped and torn  
A samurai in a storm  
Over the sand into the glare  
Because_

_------_

He had come out here after they had received the news of her death. He needed a release. They had said that when they found her, she looked very peaceful. She lay upon a bed, in fine robes, and with no outward signs of a struggle. Apparently, after five months of trying to crack her, they decided to do away with her.

To do away with _his_ sweet Ginny.

Mud splashes up into his face after he runs into a large puddle. Not even pausing to wipe the grime off his face, he continues to run.

-----_  
There's an orchestra in me  
Playing endlessly  
I even hear it now  
They play in the devil's key  
An endless symphony  
I even hear it now  
And I listen to the music  
Beautiful music  
Yes I listen to the music  
Beautiful music_

_-----_

He's running and he almost wants to laugh. _Almost._

It's so ironic how he though nothing could go wrong. He thought he could stop playing everyone's savior, everyone's servant. He thought that Voldemort had indeed been dispensed of for the last time. Nothing for a year and half could bring people to hopeful conclusions. It turned out that Voldemort was just building a force, gathering an army, planting spies. Getting ready for one big blow.

And it came.

It came in the form of a death. A death of a student, a friend, a sister, a daughter.

A lover.

He runs, never looking back. He can't for he knows he'll see her there, so close yet so painfully far.

-----

_Here I am  
A young man  
A crashing computer program  
Here is a pen  
Write out my name_

_-----_

He looks to his left and sees the empty stands of the Quidditch pitch. He can see the area behind the bleachers and he feels a sting of incomprehensible pain.

He had kissed her there.

It was after Gryffindor had ousted Ravenclaw for the Quidditch cup in his sixth year. She had smiled at him and it had started to rain like it was now. She had looked so perfect that he knew he had to kiss her.

So he did. And he was happy and she was happy, and that was enough. But that's all over now and knows that he will never feel joyful again.

He doesn't want to. Not without her.

He picks up the pace, and runs faster. He can hear the blood pumping in his ears. He remains indifferent. He's running and that's all that matters.

_-----  
There's an orchestra in me  
Playing endlessly  
I even hear it now  
They play in the devil's key  
An endless symphony  
I even hear it now  
And I listen to the music  
Beautiful music  
Yes I listen to the music  
Beautiful music_

_-----_

He must have been out here for at least one and a half hours .He feels his feet touch the ground after the sixth lap around the pitch, and he finds it oddly comforting. The repetitive footfalls are consistent, with a steady even rhythm.

The only thing in his royally screwed up life that stays constant.

Suddenly, he wants to breathe but he can't. He wants to stop moving, but he can't. He wants to scream but he can't. He wants to reach out but he can't.

He wants to _feel_ but he can't.

And then he understands.

He just died inside.

-----

_Oh I listen to the music  
Beautiful music  
Yes I listen to the music  
Beautiful music  
Yes I listen to the music  
Beautiful music_

_-----_

**Fin.**


End file.
